I’m sorry I’ve neglected you, Internets. For those of you who don’t know, I’m the Snarky Card Chick. I go around to bars (and sometimes parties) selling Snarky Cards: Brutally Honest Greeting Cards from a box that hangs beneath my boobs. They will crack you the fuck up. And my boobs will knock yer socks off.
Anyway, back to the point. I’ve neglected you, Internets. Because I had a boyfriend. And, honestly, I couldn’t figure out how I felt about said boyfriend. Sometimes I was super-happy about him, and sometimes I felt like I had a cyst who gave me orgasms. Some of my pendulous feelings came from the fact that I haven’t had anything remotely boyfriend like in ten years. And I was surprised that I was still capable of romantic feelings. Some of it came from the fact that I am already in love. With my job.
I didn’t realize how deeply I was in love with my job, until I found myself missing it, when I was with my boyfriend. And yes, I am using the past-tense. Yesterday, I broke the thing off. No, he didn’t dick out like all of the boys before him.
Well, he did kinda get dickish when I told him I didn’t want to see him anymore. but his feelings were hurt. Which is not an excuse to call me names (as he did) or yell (as he also did) or generally act like a dill-hole. But it’s understandable. If I were a few years younger, I might have acted the same way that he did. It should be noted that he, actually, is a few years older than me, so his behavior was surprisingly lame. I’ve had a lot of therapy, and because of that couch time, mad for me is a pitt-stop on the way to sad-town that I don’t always bother with. It takes less process-time if I skip the mad and go straight to the sad. His post-traumatic-break-up tantrum made me sad for him.
When I ended things, I had more or less just placed him in the “Maybe later” section in my head. But after the name-calling and the general lameness of him, post-break-up, he’s now in the “Hell no, dodged a bullet there” section in my head.
Part of the reason I ended it, with him is that I resented the time that I was spending with him, not working. Which sounds retarded. But, I have a killer job. I go to bars, and drink and watch people laugh at my art. I get to judge the way people laugh as part of my job. And while I do it, I know that my cards, my art, my writing made them laugh. And then they tell me secrets or situations and then I go home, and I write more cards, and figure out what else needs to be said in the world, so I have new material to give back to the world the next night.
When I’m burned out on people, and low on cards, I hole up in my house, and get stoned, and paint for 12-14 hours in a row, making new cards, watching my favorite television shows, and occasionally cuddling up with one of the cats. I have days where I sleep. I have 24 hour workdays. And I’m always in the middle of this constant loop of other people’s stories. They tell them to me, I write cards about them, and then I feed them back to new people the next night. It’s amazing. And it makes me feel like a fucking rockstarr.
There were other reasons I broke up with this boy. I don’t want to dwell or humiliate him on the internets more than he deserves. So I won’t go into it. Overall, I feel good. I feel like I renewed my vows to Snarky Cards. And I tried to give romance a chance. In honor of my recent ex, I give you: Whiny Text. For all of you who need to break-up with someone soon. For all of you who are tired of hearing the whine in the text. Thanks for listening to me, Internets, I feel a lot better now.